


warmth & wrappers

by Accidie



Series: the beginnings [6]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Bonding, Chocolate, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Pre-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Young Arthur Morgan, Young Hosea Matthews, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25658590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidie/pseuds/Accidie
Summary: Arthur has his first taste of chocolate.--Loosely connected to the other works in this series, but works as a stand-alone.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews & Arthur Morgan
Series: the beginnings [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817620
Comments: 9
Kudos: 116





	warmth & wrappers

“Sm- smo, no, Snow? Snowberger?” Arthur reads. “What’s that?” 

“Keep reading,” Hosea says. 

Arthur had been trying to figure out what the text said for a few minutes now, Hosea wanting to encourage him to use his skills more often. But reading still was hard for the boy, and even harder now, sitting at the edge of the pier. The boy was so easily distracted, always finding something new to focus on, whatever it was a seagull flying above them, or just a loud voice from the docks. Less skittish than he was a year ago, but still all too easily distracted by noises and shadows. 

He had picked the bar of chocolate up in the general store, the boy had stared at the wrapper during the whole time they were in there. Hosea had figured that Arthur wanted some sweets after their long day of riding, but to his surprise, the boy didn’t even know what it was he was looking at. 

It was the packaging he liked, with a nice landscape and with a pretty woman milking a cow. 

“I know that word,” Arthur says, pointing at the word ‘milk’ just underneath the brand name, swinging his legs. Hosea was happy that they had gotten the boy new shoes just a few months back, his old ones would without a doubt have been flung into the sea by now, with how much the boy moved. “Snowberger Milk chooo, wait, that’s a c in the middle, right?” 

“Yes,” Hosea answers, with the patience of a saint. He had never had much patience before meeting the boy, it was something he had to learn just as much as Arthur had to learn to read. 

“Choco-late?” Arthur says. “ _Oh,_ I’ve heard folk talk ‘bout this!” 

“But you never had it before?” 

“Nah,” Arthur says. “Didn’t even know how it looked like until now. Is it nice?” 

“It’s very nice,” he says. He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, and often would find chocolate to be too overwhelming. But if he said that, Arthur would be much less inclined to try it. “Why don’t you take a bite and try it?” 

Arthur gives him an incredulous look. 

Of course, it shouldn’t surprise Hosea one bit that Arthur hadn’t realized it was for him. 

“It’s for me?” the boy asks, only confirming what Hosea had thought. 

“Of course, kid,” he scoffs. “Why would I buy sweets for myself?” 

“Oh,” Arthur says, looking down again at the bar. “You didn’t have to buy it though.” 

“I wanted to, now give it a taste, will ya?” 

Arthur looks uncertain, inspecting the bar like it was some sort of puzzle. “I reckon it’s too big for me,” he declares. “I ain’t got room for all of it in my stomach.” 

“Well,” Hosea says, growing slightly impatient. Just slightly. “You don’t need to eat everything at once.” 

“But then I would have to carry it home with me, and I don’t want no chocolate on my new socks. I think we need to split it.” 

So that was what Arthur’s little spiel led up to. 

“Arthur, you don’t have to share. It’s yours.” 

“Perhaps I want to share,” is the boy’s quick response. “You and Dutch share all the time, why can’t I?” 

“I am not the kind of criminal to steal _chocolate_ from young boys.” 

“It ain’t stealin’ if I am giving it away, is it?” Arthur says. “You always said to me that refusing a gift is rude. Don’t ya think you’re bein’ rude now? Or does that only work when y’all are buying me shoes and clothes and sweets that I don’t need?” 

That Arthur still brings up that in arguments almost makes him annoyed, because he _did_ need the clothes, both the shirt and the pants he was wearing before were so worn that it was a wonder they still held together. He had tried to refuse the clothes they had picked out for him, and later had cried when he saw the new shoes. 

He had never met a more ridiculous kid. 

But he made a fair point. 

“Okay, Arthur,” Hosea says, “Let’s split it, then.” 

Arthur smiles at him and readies himself to break the bar in half before stopping himself. “Should we save some for Dutch?” 

“I don’t think he cares much for chocolate.” 

“Okay,” Arthur says, and snaps it in half, flinching a bit at the sound. He opens the wrapped carefully, some crumbs of the chocolate falling onto his pants, some into the water. “Here,” he says, holding out a large piece of the bar. 

“Not a chance, kid,” Hosea says, and instead takes the smaller piece, still in the wrapper, from Arthur’s lap. 

“Suit yourself,” Arthur grumbles. He must be the only boy in history to get pissed over getting the largest piece of candy. 

Arthur sniffs the piece, “Smells like coffee,” is his verdict, before taking the smallest bite possible of the chocolate. The look of his face is _priceless._ His whole face lights up, really looking like a child in the moment. He eagerly takes another bite, this time a mouthful. 

“I knew you would like it,” Hosea laughs, taking a bite of his own piece. 

Arthur says something unintelligible, making him cringe. 

“Why don’t you swallow all that before trying to speak?” 

Arthur takes a large gulp. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly, teeth still stained from the chocolate. 

“Well, I perhaps shouldn’t have spoken to you while you still ate.” 

The boy takes another bite, and Christ, he ate fast, the piece in his hand was barely noticeable anymore. “You think Dutch’s gonna get pissed if I buy chocolate for all of our money?” Arthur says. 

“No, but I would.” 

Arthur snorts. “You’re so serious, Hosea. Eat more of the chocolate, and you’ll get happy. I know I’m happy now.” 

If he knew something as simple as candy would cheer the boy up so much, he would have made sure he and Dutch bought it for him ages ago. “Try making it melt in your mouth rather than chewing it,” he advises Arthur. “It tastes better that way.” 

While Arthur happily tries eating it the way Hosea suggested, Hosea takes a second to look at the paper the chocolate came in. 

It was no wonder Arthur had trouble reading the text, not when every letter was embellished as if it belonged in a storybook for children. 

“Can I have it?” Arthur asks, breaking him away from his thoughts. He has some chocolate around his mouth, which he attempts to wipe away when he notices Hosea looking at it. 

“What?” Hosea asks. Arthur nods towards the wrapper in Hosea’s hands. “It’s just trash, kid.” 

“Perhaps I like trash,” is the boy’s response. “And, well- I like having stuff. Y’know, mementos. That’s the word, right?” 

Of course. He sometimes forgot just how sentimental the boy was. “You’re worse than a crow, with all your collecting.” 

But he still gives the wrapper to Arthur, who neatly folds it and puts it into his breast pocket with a smile on his lips.

“Dutch says I’m stubborn as an ox, and you call me a bird. What’s it gonna be next time? Pickerel? That should cover all bases.” 

Hosea almost missed the time when Arthur barely spoke. 

Almost. 

“You’re a little hellcat too,” Hosea says. “And you eat like a piglet,” the boy still has chocolate on his face, and it bothers him. He pulls his handkerchief from his pocket and gently wipes it away from Arthur’s face, the boy grunting in displeasure over the treatment. Finally pleased, he tucks a long strand of hair behind Arthur’s ear before continuing, “and mangy as a street dog as well. We ought to give you a trim soon.” 

“Dutch has longer hair,” Arthur points out. “And it’s always dirty. You should cut his instead.” 

“It’s not dirty, he uses pomade, which I told you the first time you asked.” 

“Yeah, well it looks greasy.” 

Hosea can’t argue against that. Perhaps he should have a talk with Dutch about it, the man always could afford to be knocked down a peg. 

“Do you want to head back?” he asks Arthur. It was getting quite cold. He had grown more sensitive to that in the past year, his bones always seemed to ache after being out too long in the chill afternoon air. 

“Can we sit here just for a while longer?” Arthur asks in a tentative voice. Still scared of such simple suggestions, it seemed. But it was getting better, Hosea has to remind himself of that every time Arthur did something that made his heart ache for the boy, just a year ago they had to coax everything out of him, everything from if he liked the food they gave him, or if his clothes kept him warm. 

“Alright,” Hosea says, “But do me a favor and scoot closer, will you? I didn’t bring my good jacket.” 

Arthur moves carefully, most likely afraid of falling into the water beneath, until he almost sits on him, and when Hosea wraps an arm around the boy, he takes it as an invitation to rest his head on Hosea’s shoulder. The blood runs warm in Arthur, both in temperament and temperature. 

  
It being cold is only an excuse to cuddle a bit, both of them know it.   
Such open displays of affection didn’t come easy to any of them, only to Dutch. 

“Are you getting warmer, old man?”Arthur asks.

“It’s hard to feel anything other than warm with you around, son.” 

“Oh, shut it.” 

He doesn’t need to look at Arthur to know that he’s blushing. 

**Author's Note:**

> this idea came from a chat in a rdr2 discord server I'm in and I had to write it. I hope it was an enjoyable read! please let me know if you liked it!!
> 
> find me on tumblr at @comrade-enjolras


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